The Burning of Their Blood
by Jeremy Harper
Summary: The blood of the young burns so wonderfully. After Ryugenzawa Ranma and Akane begin to requite their passions.
1. Chapter 1

The Burning of Their Blood

A Ranma ½ Romance

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and is used without permission.

Chapter 1

Ranma sat at the sidelines of the gym with his friends while the Furinkan Girls Volleyball team practiced. Arms draped across his drawn-up knees, chin resting on his forearms, he moodily watched the team captain while ignoring Hiroshi and Daisuke's often lewd running commentary. In his mind he repeated a familiar litany with desperate fervor.

_Built like a brick. _

Akane set herself by the net, waiting for the opposing squad's serve, legs spread and her body bent forward slightly. Her tee-shirt, somewhat oversized, hung loosely, allowing a peek down her collar and a glimpse of the cleavage formed by her sports bra. The upper slopes of her breasts swelled pleasantly, colored pink by a slight blush of exertion, looking firm and healthy. Her red bloomers clung tightly to her form, showing off the athletic curves of her shapely hips.

_Thighs too thick. _

The volleyball came spinning over the net. Akane leaped gracefully, long, very toned legs propelling her into the air. With a loud cry she spiked the ball back over the net, scoring a point and retrieving serve for her squad.

_Uncute chick. _

Akane's face lit up with a confident smile, cheeks flushed with satisfaction. In the afternoon sunlight she seemed to glow.

Ranma sighed inaudibly and pressed his eyes against his forearms. _What a crock of shit._ He pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the doors, head bowed and hands thrust in pockets, attempting to project nonchalance.

"Where are you going, Ranma?" Hiroshi called out.

"Bored now," Ranma said. "I'm going home." The clang of kicking open the door to the practice fields obscured any follow-up from his friends. Outside, Ranma paused to take a deep, shuddering breath before starting for the school gates, lost in brooding thoughts.

It had been so easy at first, denying that any attraction existed. He had been furious at Akane for how she had so swiftly taken back her offer of friendship after she discovered his curse and had their engagement forced upon her. But the following week proved Kasumi right, that a sweet girl was hiding beneath a violent exterior. Akane buying him time against Kuno, her carrying him back to the Tendo house after his legs gave out, and most of all the sweet smile she gave him after he told her, in his ham-fisted way, that he thought her cute with short hair – all of that starting the slow but sure destruction of his resistance, its fall inevitable as that of a cliff crumbling to the sea.

Sometimes it felt like they took a step back for every two steps forward, but then came Ryugunzawa. He thought he had lost Akane to another boy, Shinnosuke. That his unthinking mouth and rowdiness had finally driven her away. Then she nearly got devoured by the Orochi in an effort to protect him. It had been two weeks since and Ranma was still waking up at night, ghosts of fear and regret chilling him. But even more potent was the memory of Akane's slim, strong hand in his, the warmth of her happiness and contentment radiating from her. All the way home a wish grew in Ranma's heart, and no matter how viciously he drove it away it always returned, each time stronger and more demanding.

Ranma let out another shuddering sigh. He was close to the Tendo estate now, crossing the bridge spanning the canal. He deftly leaped onto the fence and squatted, staring out at the water. He could not lie to himself anymore. He wanted Akane Tendo, wanted to be with her, to mean something to her other than an unwilling fiance or smart-mouthed friend. When he looked at her, he felt within himself a hollow, throbbing ache that he instinctively knew could only be assuaged by her. When he felt that ache, his blood flowed hot and quick, becoming a liquid fire that burned and hurt wonderfully.

Ranma shook his head sharply, standing up and walking the fence rail. The whole situation was hopeless. It was stupid to long for something he could never have. Even discounting all the traps surrounding him set by his father's greed or his own impulsiveness, he could not see how Akane would want to be with someone like him. Certainly, they had a friendship of sorts, despite the pressure of their engagement, and got along fine more often than not. But there remained the fact that far too often his words hurt her. Despite his best intentions his mouth ran faster than his mind and would send Akane into either a fury or tears. He had been trying to curb this habit since returning to Ryugunzawa and had become extraordinarily taciturn. But in the effort to not say the wrong thing, he was barely saying anything to Akane at all. He felt imprisoned, unable to move forward, unwilling to go back.

Ranma entered the house without announcing himself, removing his shoes and quietly making his way to the guest room. The old men ignored him, concentrating on their perpetual shogi game. He heard Kasumi puttering around in the kitchen. He knew Nabiki was out with friends, and Akane would be a while yet. Good. He wanted to be left alone for a time. He threw himself down on his futon and stared at the ceiling, trying to empty his mind. But always his thoughts returned to Akane practicing in the gym, recalling the glimpse down her shirt, the curve of her hips, the passion and pride on her face, all making her desirable beyond compare. Ranma hissed in frustration before surrendering to his rebel thoughts. He submerged himself in all his memories of Akane, allowing himself to revel in the burning of his blood.


	2. Chapter 2

The Burning of Their Blood

A Ranma ½ Romance

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and is used without permission.

Chapter 2

A loud cry and the crack of breaking brick roused Ranma from his lethargy. He sat up on his futon and blinked in the gloom, groggy and a little disoriented. The shout and shattering of brick repeated, the noise sweeping the remaining cobwebs of sleep from his mind. He canted his head and listened, heard a third shout and crack, and smirked. He got up and headed outside.

He found Akane behind the dojo, dressed in her off-yellow gi. She squatted on her haunches, knife-edge of her right hand resting on a brick propped between two cinderblocks, her face serious with concentration. She took a deep breath, raised her hand high then drove it down with a shout, breaking the brick in half. She beamed in satisfaction and reached for another brick from a small pile nearby.

"Chee, Akane," said Ranma, startling her. "You're such a tomboy. Didn't you get enough exercise running your friends ragged at volleyball practice today?"

Akane gave him a cool glance. "No. A girl needs to keep busy if she wants to keep in shape." Ranma had to clamp down hard to avoid responding to such a straight line. His effort must had been obvious, for Akane looked at him curiously. "Are you all right?"

Ranma sighed softly. "I'm fine. Just a little sleepy. Your brick-breaking woke me from a nap."

"Sorry," she said, simply yet sincerely. She continued to stare closely at him, and he started to fidget slightly under her regard, scratching the back of his head and looking away. "Are you certain you're fine? You've been out-of-sorts for a while now."

"Feh. I said I'm fine. Just been thinking about a few things, is all."

Akane's face brightened with sly enlightenment. "I understand now. You're stressed from exercising something you've never used before. It's okay, Ranma – thinking will become easier the more you practice it."

Ranma scowled at her. "Very funny." She seemed to agree with him, for she laughed as she stood and dusted off the pants of her gi. Ranma's expression softened, becoming speculative. "You want to spar?"

The offer startled her. "Really?"

Ranma shrugged. "A guy needs his exercise, too. Go into the dojo. I'll join you after I sweep up back here."

Akane looked at him closely again. "Why are you being so nice?"

Ranma flinched at the question, stung and nettled. "Do I need a reason to be nice?" he countered. "But if you're going to get all suspicious, then I got better things to do." He turned on his heel to stalk off, but Akane intercepted him, waving her hands.

"No, don't go. I didn't mean it. I really would like to spar." She sketched him a slight bow and smiled. "Thank you."

Ranma ducked his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "It's okay." He watched from beneath his bangs as Akane skipped off into the dojo, his lips pursed. He never noticed before just how tight her gi pants were, how well they fitted her slender hips and taut, rounded rear. He took a breath in an effort to center himself before grabbing the broom leaning against the dojo wall. This was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake yet could find no way to prevent himself from making it. He should not risk touching Akane with the way he was feeling right now – it could only lead to pain and disaster. And yet he wanted to, despite knowing the consequences. He paused in his sweeping, closing his eyes and bowing his head as his blood rushed hot and swift, lighting a fire deep inside of him that burned so exquisitely that he wanted it to consume him completely, leaving him nothing more than sated ash from which he would rise phoenix-like, to be burned down by the pleasure of his desire yet again.

He hissed as he shook off these thoughts, and grimly set about his clean up. He quickly finished sweeping the yard then stowed away the bricks and cinderblocks. After washing his hands he went to join Akane in the dojo.

* * *

Akane finished her warm-up kata when Ranma stepped into the dojo, sliding the door shut behind him. He stood still for a moment, head tilted slightly as he gave her a searching, almost wary look. Akane arched an eyebrow quizzically – he had been acting so strangely the past few weeks. She did not know how to interpret this behavior, and of course he was keeping his own council.

Ranma shrugged and flashed her a smile that seemed apologetic then started a kata to loosen himself up. Akane studied him through half-closed eyes, a mixture of feelings stirring within her. A little jealousy – far less than she once felt, but still there. It had waned though, as she came to know him better and understood the price he had paid for such mastery. Admiration for his grace and strength had replaced her envy, and with it came an emotion she did not recognize – or rather, to be more precise, refused to acknowledge. As she watched him flow from form to form a familiar warmth heated her checks and she forced herself to look down at the polished wooden floor as she chided herself. It was stupid to feel such things for Ranma. Perhaps they were friends, despite their quarrels, but he had long ago made his feelings about her looks plain.

She looked up just as he finished his warm-up. He nodded to her and settled into the relaxed stance he favored. "Whenever you're ready, Akane." She nodded back and set herself, fists raised, legs spread, eyes narrowed as she evaluated him. Something looked off about Ranma; it took a few moments for her to realize it was his expression. He looked far more serious than he usually did when he sparred with her. It was almost as if he was preparing himself for a real fight. Akane pursed her lips thoughtfully, but then with a mental shrug pushed aside her doubts and rushed forward.

The first ten seconds followed the usual pattern of their spars, with Ranma evading her strikes with a dancing ease. Akane tamped down her annoyance and redoubled her efforts, launching a combination of punches at his head and chest. He shifted and swayed, barely moving his feet, dodging all save the last blow, which he parried with a wrist block. Akane let out a soft gasp and stepped back, blinking in confusion, for after he pushed aside her fist he slid his palm gently over the back of her hand. Ranma looked at her, a smirk crooking his lips. "What, you done already?" he teased. She frowned and engaged him again, but with more caution than usual, not certain of what he intended. Again he dodged, ducking, weaving, but every ten or twenty seconds he would block a punch and deliberately skim his hand over her fist. Akane found herself growing more flustered with each parry. Her heart beat faster than it should, thrumming a rapid tattoo against her ribs, and her face flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with exertion. Suddenly she yelped, surprised beyond all measure as Ranma threw a punch at her. It was a languid strike for him, deceptively slow and missing her face by an inch. As he drew back his arm he unclenched his fist and let his opened hand gently caress her cheek.

Akane gasped again, louder, and jumped back. She stared wide-eyed at Ranma, her hand covering her cheek, intensely aware of how fast she was now breathing. Her throat felt tight and a powerful warmth churned in her stomach. Ranma stared back at her, his head bowed slightly, his blue eyes gleaming with a smoky heat she had never seen before. She trembled briefly and swallowed. "What are you doing?" She meant to shout her question, but it came out as a whisper.

Ranma bared his teeth in a smile that made her tremble again. "Come and find out." Akane snarled, the strangely gentle arrogance in his voice infuriating her. She charged him, lashing out with a punch. He easily slapped it aside and stepped towards her, his arms snaking around her shoulders, and suddenly she found herself pressed against his chest.

Akane could not move, frozen utterly by Ranma's embrace, the feel of his powerful body touching her own. She felt his arms tighten, heard a primal sound rumble in his throat that sent a shiver chasing down her spine, followed by a wonderful feeling of fire rising from just below her belly. She looked up at her fiance and gasped a third time; she never imagined that blue eyes could ever smolder and burn the way Ranma's did at this moment.

"You're very cute when you fight, Akane," said Ranma, voice pitched low in a purring rasp that made her shiver again. His face began to slowly dip toward hers, and she realized that he was going to kiss her. She licked her lips, a soft, kittenish moan involuntarily escaping her.

Ranma reacted to the sound, but not in a way Akane expected. His eyes grew wide, the fire in them extinguished by a sudden flood of fear. He let go of her and swiftly backed away. "Akane, I... I..." he stuttered out. Then he was gone, fleeing the dojo in a blur of motion, leaving her alone. She stared after him blankly for a moment before slowly sinking to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as her body trembled from the burning of her blood.


	3. Chapter 3

The Burning of Their Blood

A Ranma ½ Romance

By

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and is used without permission.

Chapter 3

Ranma hesitated before Akane's bedroom door, half-raising his hand to knock, and with a sigh decided against it. No doubt Akane was furious with him – he was honestly surprised she had not been lying in wait for him when he returned to the house – and did not want to start a fight so late at night. He walked into his bedroom, hands in pockets, shoulders slumped, and glared down at his pop, who was grumbling and snoring in his panda form. Scowling, Ranma snagged a blanket off his futon and headed to the dojo. The presence of others grated on his hyper-sensitive nerves, making him seek out solitude. The only person's presence he wanted right now was Akane's, and he was absolutely certain she wanted nothing to do with him.

He sat down in the dojo and leaned back against a wall with his blanket wrapped around him, staring into the dark. After he had fled from Akane he had wandered aimlessly around Nerima for hours, grappling with the feelings she had invoked in him. He had thought what he had experienced previously had been intense – Ranma chuckled darkly. Those feelings were but a lit match compared to the inferno ignited by the startled glittering look in her eyes and her soft, liquid moan.

Ranma shivered, throwing his blanket from him and pressed clenched fists against his eyes. Unbidden, the memory of her body pressed against him, firm and soft and lithe, enveloped him. His breath grew harsh and ragged, and his arms ached with the need to hold her. He leaped to his feet and stalked around the training hall like a hunting tiger, blood coursing molten through his veins. He never wanted anything more than he wanted Akane. He desired her more than mastery of his art or victory in combat or even a cure for his curse. Ranma fell to his knees, his eyes shut tight. A hungry, longing groan rumbled out of him. He wanted Akane so bad, but for the life of him he did not know if she reciprocated the feeling. Had it been passion he had seen in her eyes, or fear? Had she moaned in desire, or because he had scared her?

"Akane," Ranma muttered, tucking his legs beneath him Indian-style as he attempted to summon the Soul of Ice to quell the fire raging through him. "Akane, what the hell am I going to do?" He grappled with the heat of his lust futilely; coldness refused to cloak him, his Soul of Ice melting beneath the flames of his passion. His stomach churned and his heart beat savagely against his ribs. With a growl he gained his feet and walked to a wall, pressing a hand against it and bowing his head, eyes shut tight as he realized just how damn _hard _he was, his cock as stiff and unyielding as a rod of adamant, aching with need. He hissed, fumbling at the drawstrings of his pants, yanking them and his boxers down and kicking them away. He pressed his forehead against the wall as he worked himself, all the while thinking of Akane. She had felt so good in his arms today... He wanted her so bad. He wanted her mouth, her body, wanted to be enveloped by the passion she possessed and to know that she desired him as much as he did her. Ranma's memory flew back to the first day they met, when she had walked into the bath gloriously naked...

Ranma groaned and shuddered as he spilled out on the wall. He stood breathing heavily for a few moments then shook his head and laughed bleakly. _God, Akane's right. I am a damn pervert._ Ranma stepped back, his fires abated yet he felt empty and hopeless. It was so stupid, wanting something he could never have; Akane was somehow miraculously his friend, but he doubted she would ever want to be more that.

* * *

Akane huddled beneath her covers, knowing Ranma was standing outside her bedroom door, and she held her breath as she waited for him to do something. Finally she heard him quietly pad away. She sighed, not certain whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She rolled onto her back, staring up at her shadow-striped ceiling as she tried to bring to order the turmoil of her thoughts and emotions.

_You're very cute when you fight, Akane._ She shivered from the memory of his husky voice. Ranma's eyes had shone like sapphires when he said that. She had felt exposed under his gaze, yet strangely not vulnerable. Something within her, powerful and primal, had opened in response to the heat of his look, like a flower blossoming in the light of the sun.

But then, when he seemed about to kiss her, the light in his eyes extinguished and he fled from her, leaving her shaking and burning with the realization that she _wanted _him to kiss her, and that she very much wanted to kiss him back. Why did he suddenly stop and run away? He had looked almost afraid. Akane's face crumpled slightly and she turned onto her right side. She hated to admit it, but he had just cause to be worried about her reaction to his advances. She experienced a brief moment of resentment – did Ranma not expect her to be wary, after all the times he toyed with her emotions? But that spark was quickly smothered by a far greater heat.

Akane shifted onto her back again, cast off her covers and wrapped herself in her arms as she trembled from the fire burning within her. She sat up, skinning out of her yellow ruffled pajama top and tossing it to the floor. She dropped back to the mattress, hiking up her hips and pulling off her bottoms and panties and throwing them aside. Shedding her sleep clothes did nothing to cool her – she felt even hotter than before, and she was honestly surprised her bed did not ignite beneath her burning skin. The memory of Ranma's body pressing against her, so lean and strong, kept rising to the forefront of her thought, a beautiful torment. From past experiences Akane knew there was only one way to quench the fire wonderfully torturing her. Her left hand began skimming over her body, trying to replicate Ranma's touch, while her right hand crept down toward the warm wetness centered between her thighs.

She lost herself in her touch and her dreams, imagining what could have happened if Ranma had not run. She tried to control her voice, pursing her lips tight, but soft little gasps still escaped her. Finally Akane rolled over on her belly, propping herself on her knees and a forearm and bit her pillowcase to muffle herself. The wall between her and Nabiki's room was thin, and Akane did not want to deal with the merciless teasing that would ensue if her older sister overheard her. Now she allowed herself to be completely immersed in fantasy, imagining Ranma touching her, kissing her, making her ache and burn beautifully. She shuddered hard, her pillow stifling her moans, and she collapsed boneless, breathing heavily.

Akane languidly rolled onto her back, her eyes glittering slits, feeling sated for now yet ultimately unsatisfied. _You're very cute when you fight, Akane._ Had he meant that? She did not know, but hoped that, maybe for once, he was not playing a game.

* * *

Author's Note – Thanks once again to Pursemonger for her proofreading and suggestions.


End file.
